The marketplace was bursting at the seams.
Merchants shouted prices, carts rattled by with squeaky wheels, and the air reeked of spice, sweat, and wet stone. The cacophony was a symphony of clinking coins, bawling vendors, and footsteps — loud, untidy, living.
"STOP THAT BRAT!"
A voice cut through the din like a sword through silk.
Boy ran through the throng, cloak billowing behind him, a fat hunk of bread gripped firmly in his fist. Two imposing men were at his heels, one panting, the other spluttering with anger.
"Grab him!"
"He snatched the last bloody loaf!"
Boy didn't pause. He weaved past stalls, dodged under a swaying row of clothes, then
Thunk! He leapt into a wooden cart, using its speed to carry him upward.
One foot hit a barrel, the next a market stand, and in one fluid motion, he soared above the crowd — landing on a low rooftop with a soft skid of boots against tile.
He glanced over his shoulder, grinning.
"Don't worry! I'll pay back later!" he shouted, holding the bread up like a trophy. "Maybe!"
Gasps and curses followed him as he vanished into the maze of rooftops.
The market receded behind him as he delved further into the city's marrow — the slums. The buildings here were tilted like tipsy drunken men, held together by prayer and twine. Broken windows, rusty tin roofs, children playing bare feet in the mud.
Boy leaped down from a ledge and walked by a dripping pipe, eventually arriving at a crooked little shack with a door that creaked louder than a dying ox.
He shoved it open. "Home sweet—"
The room was vacant.
He raised an eyebrow, entering. "Huh. She's not here?"
He threw the bread on a wobbly table. "So no lectures today. No guilt-tripping. No big shiny eyes staring into my soul. Nice. A little peace, at last."
"—So I do drama, huh?"
A voice behind him.
Boy almost jumped out of his skin. "ELIRA?!"
Arms folded and eyebrow raised, a silver-haired girl with piercing eyes and a smirk stood in the doorway.
"I get home and my big brother is badmouthing his precious little sister?"
"Uh—I don't have any precious sisters."
Thud! A gentle fist hit his stomach.
"OW! You little beast!"
"Oh really?" she asked, lips curled sweetly. "I thought Big Brother Reon only hurt when pilfering food."
"I didn't take anything!" Reon exclaimed. "That's libel. Libel, I tell you!"
Elira reached out and took the loaf of bread from him. She stared at him. "Big brother. Pay the merchant. Or…"
Reon threw up his hands. "Fine, fine! I'll pay. After I'm on the council."
"Huhhh…" Elira let out a mock-sigh. "Return to reality, fantasy prince. Perhaps begin with finding employment."
She ripped the bread in two, gave him half, and sat down next to him on the floor.
Reon bit into it, puffing out his chest. "One day you'll see. Your big brother will be commanding an entire army. People will bow when I walk by!"
"Yeah, yeah," she said, smiling. "My big brother, the delusional bread bandit."
"Laugh now," he said, standing up and brushing off his cloak. "But I'll prove it. Someday."
Elira blinked. "Where are you going now?"
"To train," Reon said over his shoulder.
"Wait, listen—!"
The door slammed shut.
Elira sighed, staring at the closed door.
"Sometimes I wonder who the older one really is…"
She took another bite of bread and smiled.
"My idiot brother."
In a secluded corner of the slums, away from the commotion of the market, a single voice reverberated off cracked stone.
"Three hundred forty-eight. three hundred forty-nine. three hundred fifty. More."
Reon's voice was steady and low, in rhythm with every swing of the worn wooden sword in his hand. His brow dripped with sweat, soaking his already shabby shirt. His arms shook, but he did not relent.
His gaze remained fixed forward, unfocused but resolute. Each swing cut out a shard of doubt from his heart. Each gasp brought him back to the reality that weakness had no business in his future.
"Still at it?"
A voice he knew cut through the silence.
Reon did not turn right away. He recognized that voice.
He looked to the side. Alice stood there — arms crossed, dark cloak over her shoulders, her face caught between amusement and worry.
"How long are you going to keep doing this, huh?" she asked.
Reon continued to swing. "Until I'm strong enough to become an Oathbearer."
Alice rolled her eyes. "Seriously? You still believe that fantasy? You do know you need an Oathstone for that, right? And you know how expensive they are. And you definitely know what happens if you fail, don't you?"
She came closer. "Only nobles or wealthy guilders can afford such a risk."
"I know," Reon answered softly.
"Then why?"
The swings came to a slower pace.
Reon sheathed the sword, his chest heaving with labor. He did not speak for a moment.
Then he met her gaze, eyes hot although he was tired.
"Because I want to provide Elira with the life she deserves."
Alice's face softened.
She didn't speak for a long time.
"I understand," she whispered. "But even if you'd like to attempt it, how are you going to obtain an Oathstone? It's not merely the cost — they're protected, scarce, traced—"
"It doesn't matter," Reon cut in.
Alice blinked. "What?"
My mom used to say to me. if your heart, soul, and mind are one really, completely you don't require a stone to swear the oath. The Oath responds to you of itself."
Alice scoffed. "That's just an old legend."
Reon had no time to answer before the echo of panicked footsteps sounded down the alley.
A boy, gasping, slid into sight.
"Reon!" he yelled.
Reon and Alice both turned.
Reon spun around towards the boy, his eyes narrowing. "What did you see, Jin?"
Jin was out of breath, frantic. "Knights—they're abducting your sister!"
Alice moved closer, her eyebrows knitted. "What? Why? What is it? Explain in detail!"
Jin shook his head. "I don't know! They enclosed her within some sort of glowing sphere when she wouldn't go! Now they're soaring off with her inside it—Reon, we have to—"
But Reon was already gone.
"Wait—Reon!" Alice yelled, but only the trail of dust behind him replied.
She spun around to Jin. "Let's go! Go fast!"
On the border of the slums, an unusual sight stilled the streets. A radiant orb hung barely above the ground, trapping an terrified Elira. Knights in silver armor stood around it, faces austere, unresponsive to the girl's screams.
The populace gazed, terrified and silent. No one intervened. No one cried out. Fear was too oppressive here.
"Big Brother!" Elira yelled, pounding her fists into the crystal casing. "Big Brother, Help me!"
The front knight reined in as he saw a figure standing in the center of the road up ahead cloak billowing in the windy dust.
Reon.
"Get out of the way, kid," the knight growled. "We don't have time for this."
Reon's tone was steady, but it held the fire.
"Where are you going with my sister? Let her go. Now."
A different voice replied.
"So the brother arrives."
A man materialized in front of Reon like a phantom moving through fog. He hadn't been noticed. He hadn't been felt.
Reon leaped back reflexively. "W-Who are you?!"
The man smiled icily. "You don't have power like her you are not useful go away brat".
Reon's gaze narrowed. "I don't know who are you but Step aside. And Return my sister."
"Shut your mouth," the man snarled. "Don't waste our time."
"SHUT UP!" Reon shouted. "Let my sister go!"
The man materialized before him again and struck him with a hard fist across the face.
Reon's body flew out to the ground, skidding on dirt. The hurt burst through his chest.
"Know your place, beggar," the man growled. "Don't you dare call high priest your sister you beggar".
Reon coughed and winced in pain. "What. are you saying?"
The man threw a rolled-up parchment at his feet.
"An official order from the Council," he stated. "Your sister is now property of the Council."
Reon glared at the paper. Property.
He rose, shaking with fury. "My sister is not an object! SHE'S NOT SOMETHING YOU CAN TAKE!"
With a bellow, he attacked. His wooden sword came swinging in fury.
Snap.
The man caught the sword in mid-swing and broke it.
A flurry of punches struck Reon in the stomach, doubling him over in pain. Blood gushed from his lips.
The man hauled him by the hair, cocking back a fist for a final blow.
"STOOOOOOOOP!"
Elira's voice crashed through the air like lightning.
The knight that held her hesitated. The man snarled and cast Reon to the ground like trash.
"Don't ever do that again, you dirty beggar," he spat.
The knights continued their march. Elira, trapped within the floating sphere, glanced back.
Reon was broken on the ground, bloodied, watching in vain as they dragged her away.
But his voice still had power.
"ELIRA!!! YOUR BROTHER WILL COME FOR YOU!!! I WILL DESTROY THE COUNCIL!!! I SWEAR IT!"
The words rang out through the streets. People were frozen.
A knight leaned over the man. "Sir Smith".
Smith didn't even look back. "He's just barking. Let him. We have more important things. The Council is waiting."
And with that, they disappeared.